Hope
by the-speed-reader
Summary: He looks ahead, keeping his expression blank and his eyes even more so. But then he feels a finger trailing the length of his jaw, followed by a soft voice. "Hey," she says, before following with an all too familiar question, one that dozens, hundreds of people had said before, yet not one had truly meant: "Are you okay?" *One-shot, Percabeth*


**Hope**

* * *

By: speedreader1999

* * *

_Annabeth pressed her lips to Percy's ear. "I love you."_

_She wasn't sure he could hear her - but if they died, she wanted those to be her last words._

-Annabeth Chase, _House of Hades_

* * *

He watches, out of the corner of his eye, as her head slips from where it's being cradled from her fingers, falling against the window of the car with a loud _thump_.

The urge to laugh is overwhelming, but for his sake – and hers, as she is currently rubbing the side of her head where her hair is bunched up and scowling – he bites his lip, adjusting his eyes so he can no longer see her.

Yet he can sense her, almost as if he _was _looking at her. Her knees are curled dup on the passenger's seat, showing far too much bare skin with bare feet and a large sweatshirt – his – nearly covering the hem of her bright daisy dukes. Her lips are bit in a similar fashion to his as a yawn escapes her lips; she closes her eyes once more, leans back against the headrest, and her fingers moved, subconsciously, to the silver chain that curled around her neck, playing with the small jewel set there, one melted in a shape that once was a simple gift of a pearl, but had burned into something _more _over the years.

(He's not looking at her. Not at all.)

But even with her eyes closed, combined with a sizable dish of denial on his part, she can almost sense him like he can her. "So," she says, so casually he nearly swerves the car into the next lane, "why are you staring?"

He looks ahead, keeping his expression blank and his eyes even more so. But then he feels a finger trailing the length of his jaw, followed by a soft voice. "Hey," she says, before following with an all too familiar question, one that dozens, hundreds of people had said before, yet not one had truly meant: "Are you okay?"

His tongue ran itself among his bottom lips – _a defensive mechanism, _one of the shrinks' he'd had called it. "Fine," he lied, but he was anything but, and she already knew that.

So she leaned over and gently pulled down of his white gripped hands away from the steering wheels – _Jesus, was he gripping it that tightly? _– and settled it onto the center console of the car, weaving her fingers in with his.

Unable to help himself, he turned to look at her.

Her blonde curls were outlined against the sunset in the backdrop, framed by the mountains seen clearly through the glass window behind her. Gray eyes were guarded, yet protective as she stares at him as if trying to figure out what was wrong without him telling her – and she was good at that, she honestly was – but now as something his nerves had gotten the best of his about.

She reached up, brushing a strand of dark hair behind his ear – he needed a haircut – and the sudden weight of the small cut box in his left pocket seemed all more real. He takes a deep breath, air blowing against the small piece of ribbon hanging from the top of the car by way of a small piece of tape. It was the simple motion, of something that _she _had out up into _his _car was one that causes him to straighten, his lips forming into a thin line, and squeezed her hand tightly.

"I'm perfect," he answers by way of explanation. A blonde eyebrow comes from the passenger's seat, but she nods. He turns his attention back to the road, where the paved ground is beginning to transform into gravel, the ride getting slightly bumpier.

Eventually he can sense that she had fallen asleep again, face half-cradled against the window, breathing soft, and his heart rate seems to accelerate every moment they get closer to his destination – the place where he would finally complete the one mission in his mind he'd had the moment they'd started dating.

The car slowed to a halt at a small, gravel lot looking over the edge of the city. The brilliant colors of the sunset accented every aspect of the city, yet still allowed bright lights and shining windows to come through. Across the city, seated on a large hill, sat the _Hollywood _sign, nestled between the green as if it had always belonged there.

His feet hit the ground with unusual clumsiness and his doors slam as he rushes over to her side of the car, opening the door with trembling fingers. Her breathing is even and she is still curled up – she looks so peaceful when she sleeps, so not stressed that he hates to wake her but he does, placing a light hand on her shoulder. He shakes it. "Annabeth," he says her name quietly.

She raises her head while blinking sleep out of her eyes. "Percy?" she asks, and he nods. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere special," he says, voice full with barely contained excitement. "Hold on," he laughs, before slipping one hand underneath her thighs and the other around the small of her back, lifting her into his arms.

He spins around and around for good measure as she squeals. "Percy!"

His feet are steady amongst the gravel as he walks them to the edge of the cliff. He gives her a moment to let her absorb the view before letting her down gently on her feet.

He swallows, heart beating. Her eyes narrow as he slowly gets down on one knee, pulling the box from his pocket.

His mouth is suddenly _extremely _dry and he bites his lip. Time seems to stand still as their eyes lock, her realizing what he is doing.

"Annabeth Chase," he says, "I've been waiting for the moment since I met you, and I honestly couldn't imagine my life without you." Taking a deep breath, he flips open the velvet ring case. "Will you marry me?"

For a moment, the only sound is the birds singing away to the edge of the day, greeting the moon. Annabeth's hand is over her mouth and her chest is heaving. If his heat beat any faster, he'd kneel over and have a heart attack right there and then.

But the she moves in a blur, throwing her arms around him, whispering into his ear, "Yes, Seaweed Brain, _yes_," and he grasps her ring finger and slips the sparkling jewel on before grabbing her waist and lifting her into the air, twirling her around.

She's laughing in happiness and he's dying from pure relief.

_She said yes, _he thinks, _she said yes!_

They end up getting married at that same spot, just the two of them with the priest, She's in a white strapless beach dress and he's in shorts and a white tee, but they couldn't be happier when they exchange vows, then slip the rings onto their matching fingers, binding them as husband and wife.

And not a year later that, a new addition to this family comes into the world, a green eyed, blonde haired baby girl with a smile to match. She as the light of their lives and they decided on a name unique to them in a way only they knew, not anyone else. Their daughter's name represented something that had gotten them through the depths of hell and back – literally – something that had driven them back to each other, something that they had never lost, even when everything seemed worthless.

They named her Hope.

Hope Sally Jackson.


End file.
